


A Cat of Science

by AxolotlQueen



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Animal Shelter, Canon Disabled Character, Cats, First Kiss, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-28
Updated: 2014-09-28
Packaged: 2018-02-17 19:30:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2320766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AxolotlQueen/pseuds/AxolotlQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermann decides to adopt a cat. The volunteer working at the shelter is <em>very</em> helpful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Cat of Science

**Author's Note:**

> I originally posted this fic on tumblr. It was a collaboration with [bravinto](bravinto.tumblr.com). The beautiful and adorable art drawn by bravinto can be found [here](http://bravinto.tumblr.com/post/97581670577/here-are-my-illustrations-for-tsundere-scientists)!
> 
> PSA: Adult and disabled cats _are_ often adopted less often from animal shelters, despite being just as worthy of love. Next time you want to adopt a kitty, please consider an adult and/or disabled cat! :)  
>  (This PSA brought to you by a person that really loves cats.)

The local pet shelter is a surprisingly quiet place. Hermann was expecting crowds of people and animals, adult chatter, kids shouting, animals squawking and meowing and barking, volunteers asking a flood of expectant questions. He’d braced himself for it. Crowds are not his favorite thing, but he’d sternly told himself he was perfectly capable of handling it. So he had mentally prepared himself for the crowd and the noises and the staring; only to walk into the shelter on a Thursday afternoon and find a small, nearly abandoned lobby, populated only by a red-haired man, an equally ginger boy, and a fat bulldog puppy. Hermann _can_ hear animal sounds, but they are mostly muted by distance and walls. It’s surprisingly peaceful. 

The father and son - or at least, that is what Hermann is assuming, based on their shared hair color - are standing at the counter, the father filling out some paperwork, the boy holding the puppy and staring into its face with an enraptured expression. There’s no one behind the counter, but Hermann assumes there must be someone working here, or else who would be helping the father and son? They are probably just out of sight, retrieving something or so on. Hermann sits down in one of the rows of hard plastic chairs lining the lobby to wait. 

Only a few moments later, there is a sound of movement behind the counter. Hermann tries to subtly look that way without obviously staring. Someone has appeared behind the counter, a young man - probably mid-twenties, about the same age as Hermann, so not _that_ young - with untidy brown hair and a t-shirt that has the same logo as the shelter. He begins eagerly chatting with the father and son and helps the boy put a leash on the wriggly bulldog puppy. “What’ll you call him?” he asks the kid. 

The boy considers seriously. “Max,” he pronounces at last. 

“Perfect!” the worker says brightly. He has an unusually scratchy voice. 

Only a few minutes later, the paperwork has been completed, final instructions have been given, and the worker says, “All right, you’re good to go! Take care of that puppy, kiddo!”

“I will,” the boy says, sounding indignant at the implication that he might not.

The worker laughs, says goodbye one last time, and then the father and son and their new puppy depart. The worker turns to look at Hermann expectantly, and he finds himself, once again, a little nervous. He’s never done anything like this before. 

“Hi, can I help you?” the man chirps. 

Hermann stands up hastily, his cane hitting the metal leg of the chair with a loud bang. He tries not to wince. “Ah, yes, I’m, uh, looking into adopting a cat?”

He didn’t mean for it to come out a question. 

He’s still standing in front of his chair and it occurs to him he really ought to be standing before the counter and the man behind it, so he hastily crosses over to there, feeling increasingly foolish and out of place. 

“Right, of course,” the man says with a nod. Now that Hermann is closer, he can see that he’s wearing a nametag on his shirt that says “NEWT” in sprawling, capital letters. Hermann is not entirely sure if that is a name, nickname, or if it’s meant to be some sort of identification of his favorite animal, that doesn’t entirely seem impossible in an animal shelter. The man also has tattoos, in colorful shades of red and yellow and turquoise, completely covering his arms and peeking out from under the collar of his t-shirt. Hermann isn’t entirely sure what they depict; some sort of animal or maybe monster. They hardly seem professional, but Hermann supposes that isn’t a necessary qualification for a volunteer at a small animal shelter. He tries not to stare at them. That’s rude. “Did you have any one in mind?” the man continues. 

Hermann hesitates. He has done a lot of research on this, and this particular shelter has a list online of all the animals that are currently available for adoption, including photographs and short introductions, and there are one or two that had caught his interest. That’s why he had decided to come today. But he’s really not sure of the etiquette of this, how to go about it, and with the man staring at him expectantly with big gray-green eyes, he is increasingly uncomfortable. 

When Hermann doesn’t immediately speak, the man - Newt - if that is his name, and it’s a very odd name - says, “It’s fine if you don’t, we’ve got a lot of nice animals here, some pretty adorable kittens. Have you ever had a cat before? Do you have one now?” 

Hermann swallows. “Um, no, actually, I’m afraid I’ve never done this before. So, I was, ah, I read online that for a first time pet owner it’s often easier to start with an adult cat?”

Newt smiles at that. “Yeah, dude, that’s great, everyone just wants to start with fluffy little kittens because they’re cute, but an adult cat is usually way more laid back and chill, and just as deserving of love. We’ve got some real sweethearts here- Oh, gosh, I haven’t even asked your name! I’m Newt, Newton Geiszler, a volunteer here.” 

Newton makes a good deal more sense as a name, Hermann thinks. (He also thinks that Newton has a rather nice smile, but he shoves that thought down firmly). 

“Hermann Gottlieb,” he responds. He doesn’t bother with the doctor part, it isn’t particularly relevant to this conversation. 

“Nice to meet you,” Newton says. “Now, back to serious cat business. D’you have any preferences in terms or looks or personality, that could help narrow it down, or you just wanna go at this at random?”

“Actually,” Hermann says carefully, “There was one cat I was interested in...An adult tabby cat named Tesla-”

The politely friendly smile instantly lights up into genuine warmth and excitement. “Oh, dude, Tesla! Really? Oh, I love Tesla, he’s perfect!”

Hermann is a little taken aback at this sudden burst of enthusiasm. “Oh, yes, well, from his description online he sounded nice-”

“So nice!” Newt exclaims. “He is just the sweetest, most laid back cat, but no one has been interested just because- Uh- It’s really stupid because he’s darling and that doesn’t make him not darling- I’d take him home myself if I had room but my stupid apartment has a rule about pets, nothing bigger than lizards- Sorry, you don’t care about that- Um, you wanna meet him?”

Hermann has never been good at strangers who talk a lot. He is not renowned for his conversational skills. Now he blinks at that flood of information and says, his voice coming out a little flat as it tends to when he is nervous, “Yes.” 

Newton’s passion slips a little at that. Oh dear. But he still smiles and says, “Great! We have a special room for this over here-” He gestures at a small room to the side of the lobby with windows so that a person standing at the counter can see into the room easily, “-So you can just wait in there and then I’ll go get Tesla and bring him to you and introduce you two.” 

Hermann nods. Newton comes out from behind the counter and walks - although he’s one of those people that moves with such energy that it almost looks as if he is skipping, which is rather impressive considering how _extraordinarily_ tight his jeans are - over to the room and holds the door open for Hermann. He doesn’t stare at Hermann’s cane or limp at all, that’s rather nice. Sometimes Hermann feels as if the worst part about all that has happened to him in the last few years has been people staring at his cane. 

There are two plastic chairs in the room and a bulletin board covered with pictures of people holding various animals and smiling sincerely, but other than that the room is nearly bare. The floor is linoleum with a drain in the middle. Perhaps they wash it out often to remove the smells of unfamiliar animals or people, Hermann isn’t sure. Not knowing what else to do, he sits in one of the two chairs. 

“Be back in a sec,” Newton says, and bounces off again, the door shutting behind him. It’s surprisingly effective for blocking out all noise. 

He’s only gone for a few minutes before he comes back, one arm up against his chest to hold a fluffy gray cat onto his shoulder. A little “oh” escapes from Hermann’s mouth. The cat looks even softer than it did in the photograph online, and bigger too, although that may partially be due to the fact that Newton is on the smaller side. His markings are beautiful. The cat’s, not Newton’s, obviously. 

Newton manages to open the door one-handed just as it occurs to Hermann that perhaps he ought to be the one to open it, and he slips in. “This is Tesla,” he says, and he was on the louder side before when he spoke, without even seeming to realize it, but now his voice is soft and warm. He kneels on the floor and puts the cat down - very gently - so he is facing toward Hermann. 

Hermann says, “oh,” again. 

He’s a really lovely cat. Medium length fur varying from black to pale gray. A long, majestic tail, that lashes once or twice as the cat considers Hermann. One eye is a pale gray-jade. 

The other eye is milky and the fur near it is split with scars. The ear on that side is ragged. When he takes a cautious step forward, he limps on his front left leg. 

Hermann takes his eyes off of the cat long enough to look at Newt, who is sitting on the floor with his back to the door and watching Hermann sharply, the earlier friendly smile gone now. Honestly, he looks a little angry, or defensive, perhaps, and Hermann isn’t entirely sure why. Perhaps he’s doing something wrong. 

“Is it- Is it all right if I pet him?” he asks anxiously. “Is there a specific way I should do this?”

“Just- Hold out a hand so he can sniff you,” Newt says slowly.

Hermann nods and leans forward - this might be easier if he sat on the floor, but he’s a little worried that if he does that he might not be able to stand up without help, and he really abhors asking for assistance - slowly holding out a hand to the cat, stopping a few inches from his face. It’s not as if he’s never interacted with cats before. His grandparents in England had a cat that Hremann, as a child, always tried to befriend when he visited (he was devastated when it died when he was nine), and one of his admittedly few high school friends also had a pet cat. He knows the general etiquette of how to introduce oneself to a cat. 

But he’s never had a cat of his own. He wanted one rather a lot, but he’d never even tried asking. There was no way that his father would have allowed such a thing. They weren’t even allowed to have goldfish, as Bastien _did_ rather desperately beg for once. It wasn’t until quite recently that it occurred to Hermann that he was now an adult living on his own and thus was entirely allowed to have a pet if he so wished. 

And his apartment is so...so empty. Just him, rattling around alone from his kitchen to living to bedroom with no one to talk to other than himself. And ever since- ever since his accident a few years ago, he’s been struggling to keep or make any sort of human relationship, he was never good at it in the first place and he’s somehow gotten worse at it. Everything just sort of slipped. Lately he’s been noticing that he’s lonely. 

So as he holds out his hand to this dignified cat, as Newton looks on with suspicion, Hermann finds that it matters to him quite a lot how the cat is going to react to him. Perhaps that is why, when the animal sniffs him thoughtfully, considers his hand, and then gently butts a soft head against his fingers, he lets out a relieved breath and breaks into a smile. 

“Hello there,” he murmurs, a little more pleased than is entirely necessary or reasonable, and tries gently rubbing his hand against Tesla’s head. The animal leans into the movement. Hermann smiles more, attempts to lean closer, finds that he really cannot get much closer in this position, and, with a mental curse and sigh, eases himself off the chair and onto the linoleum. Slowly, partially so as to not startle the cat, and partially because it simply isn’t easy for him to get into this sort of position with a leg that does not want to bend and then does not want to straighten once it has bent. He’s going to regret this later, he’s certain of that, but right now he is in the perfect position to gently rub his hand over the face of the cat before him, making sure to be even more gentle on the scarred side, and then, when Tesla stands up and limps a few steps closer, to stroke a hand across the fluffy back. The cat is amazingly soft. “Oh, you are lovely,” Hermann says admiringly, and thinks that an answering purr starts up. He smiles harder. “You like being complimented, hm, you lovely creature?”

Which is the point that he remembers that he is not, in fact, alone in this room. That he is sitting on the floor and talking to a cat and smiling like a fool and he is not at all alone. Heat blooms across his cheeks, and he hesitantly lifts his head to Newton, wondering how much he will be laughing at Hermann. 

Newton _is_ smiling, but there’s nothing mocking in the expression. Instead, he looks entirely lit up with joy, grinning like his face can barely even contain the happiness he is feeling, greenish blue eyes sparkling. It’s- It’s a rather flattering expression on him. Hermann notices for the first time that he has freckles, scattered all across his skin. 

“Dude, you are doing great,” he says happily. At the sound of his voice, Tesla turns around and limps - really, he moves very well despite the obvious damage to his front leg - over to him, rubbing himself against Newt’s legs. “You like him, darling?” Newt asks, and, as if in answer, Tesla turns back around to Hermann and his still outstretched hand, bumping up against it imperiously. “Yeah,” Newt laughs, “He likes you.”

“I’m glad,” Hermann says shyly. “He’s a- A beautiful cat. Friendly, too, I’m surprised.”

Newt nods. “He’s really just the sweetest. Been here for months, poor thing, but he’s still been so friendly.”

Hermann bites his lip thoughtfully. “I don’t understand, why would such a nice cat have a difficult time being adopted?”

“Oh, well-” Newt hesitates. “I mean, a lot of people, you know, they just want kittens. Not that I can blame them exactly, kittens are pretty irresistible, I’d probably take home about ten kittens every year if it wasn’t for my stupid apartment’s rules, but it means that it’s a lot harder for adult cats to get adopted, even one that’s as young as Tesla - we’re pretty sure he’s only about two or three - and then…” Newt shrugs with a half-rueful, half-pained expression. “A lot of people...don’t really...wanna adopt a, uh, a hurt cat, you know? Tesla got hit by a car, and he’s fine, no health issues, but he’s sorta rough looking with the scars and the, the, the limp, so...a lot of people...aren’t into that.” 

Oh. 

Hermann focuses on the cat between the two of them, running his hand across his back. “That’s ridiculous,” he says firmly. “He’s lovely.”

“Yeah,” Newt agrees eagerly. “Great markings, a beautiful coat, sweet temperament, he’s super laid back, he’s one of my favorite cats we got here, I’ll be sad to see him go- But. Um. You seem like you’ll take pretty good care of him. If you want him.” 

Hermann rubs the undamaged ear, and the cat shuts his eyes and definitely, audibly purrs. Hermann stopped smiling at some point, but the corners of his mouth quirk up at the sound. “I-”

“Don’t decide right now,” Newt says hastily. “I mean, I said a lot of stuff- Don’t feel pressured- You should spend a little longer, get to know each other before you decide. I’ll leave you alone for a bit. And. Um. You know. No pressure either way, if you two aren’t a good fit or whatever that’s totally cool too.” 

“O-okay,” Hermann says, a little bemused by this outburst, and Newt flashes a nervous smile and bounces to his feet and slips out the door, leaving Hermann and Tesla alone. “He’s an odd one,” Hermann remarks. To the cat. Because Hermann is also an odd one, apparently. 

But he always really has liked cats. Karla liked to say, on those childhood visits to their grandparent’s home that Hermann would spend trying to pet that poor cat as much as possible, that it’s because he is about as close to being a cat as a human being can be. It might be true, although he’s also definitely less friendly than this cat. 

Hermann hasn’t even been left alone with Tesla for five minutes before he’s certain that he doesn’t want to leave this shelter without him. And- Well- He does rather think that he has also won the cat over. It’s ridiculous to feel flattered by that, this is a _cat_ , but warmth still spreads through him when he momentarily pulls his hand away and Tesla meows indignantly and comes closer to him, stepping delicately over Hermann’s legs, stretched out straight before him, in order to get closer to his hands. Yes. He wants this cat. 

The problem, at this point, is how to indicate that to Newton. He tries to stand up, and his right leg shakes badly. Never a good sign. He sits back down before he can push it too hard and possibly hurt himself. He’s done that in the past. It’s unpleasant. He’s almost certainly going to need help standing, and as Newt is now outside of a soundproofed room...he’s not entirely certain how to get that help. 

Well, it’s not the worst place he’s ever been stuck, with a rather sweet and friendly cat to pet at his side and help not far away. He just has to hope that either Newt was intending to return soon all along, or that he will realize Hermann has been in there awhile, hopefully sooner than later. 

Being unable to stand is normally much more stressful to him. Unbearably so, sometimes, although he has been getting better at that. Right now, he is surprisingly calm. A little agitated, yes, because it’s absolutely going to be humiliating to have to ask this stranger for help, but not panicked. 

His therapist really did have a point in suggesting that getting a pet may be good for him. Hermann just thought it might make him feel a little less lonely, but it’s also rather calming, he hadn’t expected that. 

Newt comes back after another five or ten minutes. Hermann was beginning to openly converse with the cat, so that is probably for the best. 

“So, how’s it going?” Newt asks brightly. “Made up your mind yet?”

Hermann nods and declares, “Yes, I think so. I’d like to keep him.”

“Great!” Newt says.

And looks at him. Obviously waiting for Hermann to stand up.

He swallows against the sudden nervousness that comes then after all. He _hates_ having to ask for help. “Um-”

“Oh!” Newt says, before Hermann can say more. “You- Right!” And he thrusts out a hand.

It’s still utterly embarrassing, but at least he doesn’t have to actually ask. He takes hold of Newt’s hand, and Newt tugs, not too hard, enough that Hermann is able to lever himself up without having to put too much weight on his bad leg. He even mostly manages to bite back an exclamation of pain. “Ow,” is a lot better than “fuck!” 

“Sorry,” Hermann starts to stiffly apologize, at the same moment that Newt says, “Are you okay-” and then Hermann says, “Oh, I’m fine-,” exactly as Newt says, “No, no problem, dude-” and then they both embarrassedly fall silent. 

Newt has gone a little pink. Hermann thinks he has too. “So!” Newt says loudly into the sudden quiet. “You want Tes, huh? That’s great!” 

Hermann’s chair is still leaning up against the chair he had been sitting in, so he busies himself with grabbing it and putting his weight on it again. (Oh, he’s really going to be sore tomorrow…) “Yes,” he says simply.

“Great,” Newt says again, and kneels down on the ground to scoop Tesla - who had been standing between the two of them, staring curiously up at them - and stands again. “I’m, uh, I’m really glad, actually, dude,” he says, as he starts to head out of the room and back to the front counter. 

“Would- Would something have happened to him if he wasn’t adopted soon?” Hermann asks, following after. He can’t quite make himself say “euthanize,” but he wonders if that is what they do to adult cats that are not adopted soon enough. The thought makes him even gladder that he chose to bring this cat home, simply thinking of Tesla being - that - brings a surprising spike of grief. 

“Oh, no, I wouldn’t have allowed that,” Newt exclaims, reaching the counter. He sets Tesla down but keeps one hand on his scruff. “No, I just- I mean- You know. I know I don’t really know you, but, uh, you seemed sorta- at first- but then you were really nice with him and, yeah, you just seem like a pretty nice guy and like you’ll take good care of Tes and love him a lot, so I’m glad someone sweet like you is adopting him.” 

It’s really really ridiculous that Hermann is going _red_. 

Newt laughs nervously. “Sorry, I’ve said way too much, I always say way too much, didn’t mean to embarrass you. Um, anyway, here, I need you to fill out this paperwork, and I gotta get Tes all packed up to go, so, I’ll leave you alone for that. Then, I mean, I know this is your first time so if you have any questions you can ask me, and some questions I gotta ask you, mostly just a formality, and there are some adoption fees to pay, so we’ll do all that. Be back in a bit.” 

Hermann sits down and fills out the paperwork, but he keeps thinking about the fact that Newton called him sweet. Ridiculous. He isn’t. And Newton doesn’t know him at all. And Hermann is sure he’s been rather awkward and strange and embarrassing here. But Newton said Hermann was sweet. It’s...rather nice. Newton is rather nice, at least in those short conversations, he talks a lot but he was also very gentle to the animals and seems very passionate about all this, he seems nice. 

(Is he hitting on Hermann? Would Hermann mind if he is? No, but surely he isn’t, surely not, not someone like that, he’s rather good-looking, and Hermann _has_ been awkward and strange, so surely Newt isn’t hitting on him...but if he was. If he was, Hermann might not mind. Oh, do stop thinking such foolish things and focus on the damn paperwork already.) 

Newton returns carrying a cat carrier. Hermann can see Tesla’s face behind the bars. He doesn’t look pleased with the situation. “Done with the paperwork?” Newt asks, sitting next to him instead of staying behind the counter. Hermann hands him the completed forms.

He hums softly as he reads over them, occasionally commenting on various things. For example: “Oh, you gonna keep the name Tesla?”

“Well, that’s what he seems to be used to, and it’s a- A unique name, but I like it, although I do wonder why one would name a cat Tesla.”

“Because he likes pigeons,” Newt says. As if this is a perfectly ordinary thing to say. 

Hermann stares at him and then claps a hand over his mouth and bursts into surprised laughter. 

Newt cracks a grin and flushes slightly. “Oh, shit, do you actually get that joke? I’ve been making it for months now, no one ever knows what I’m talking about.”

It’s really not like him to laugh in public, with someone he hardly knows. He has to struggle to not giggle. Pigeons, honestly. 

“I, ah, was a bit of a fan of Tesla when I was a younger-” That’s a lie, he’s absolutely still fascinated by him, “-so, yes, I am familiar with that bit of trivia...I’m presuming you were the one to come up with the name, then?”

Newt nods ruefully. “Yeah, pretty silly I know. But it also seemed like a good name for a cat...and a Tesla ‘fan’, huh, that’s pretty cool. You into that sort of stuff?”

“Oh, yes,” Hermann says with a light shrug. “I, er, have my doctorate in physics.”

“Shit,” Newt says, sitting up straighter. And then- “Cool, a fellow PhD.”

“What?” Hermann says blankly. 

Newt smirks. “I’ve got a doctorate or two - or three - myself. More on the bio side of things though.”

Hermann opens his mouth, with absolutely no idea of what to say in response to that, but before he can make his astonished brain say anything, Newt has moved onto another item on the list and is commenting on that. Hermann closes his mouth slowly. What an interesting person. 

When he’s done going through the forms, he asks Hermann some other questions - mostly just about his experience and ability to take care of a pet, if he knows where the local vets are, that sort of thing - and then explains to Hermann some of the basics of introducing a cat to a new environment, what sort of pet food to use, how to clean up the litter box and where to put it, that sort of thing, and then asks Hermann if he has any questions.

He has a lot. 

“Dude,” Newt breaks in sometime during Hermann’s seventh question, “Are you nervous?”

“I- Well- Y-yes, a bit.” 

Newt gets this. This sort of smile on his face. The indulgent, you are being irrational and illogical and oh look at the uptight little physicist, needs to know every detail and plan everything, look, how funny. One Hermann has been familiar with for a while and has never once appreciated receiving. His face goes hot and he says sharply, “I have never done anything like this and I simply wish to take the proper care, I want to take it seriously-”

Newton holds up his hands defensively. “Whoa, yeah, slow down there, Hermann. I get what you’re coming from, I really appreciate that you’re being serious about this- Lots of people expect to just half-ass it and then return the pet in a week ‘cuz they can’t handle it- It’s just, you don’t need to worry so much. Tes is pretty easy, remember to feed him and clean his litter box and pet him and maybe toss a mouse toy around once in a while, and he’ll be a happy cat.”

Hermann scowls and says, “I know,” ungraciously. 

“I- Look, I didn’t mean to come off condescending.” 

Hermann sighs, and suddenly ashamed of himself, looks down at his hand and says, more politely, “I know.” He ought to apologize for snapping but...He’s not going to. 

“It’s okay if you’re nervous,” Newt says. “I mean...It is a pretty big deal, and, yeah, like I said, it’s pretty cool you’re taking it seriously.” 

Hermann nods. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“Yeah!” Newt says. Then, as if an idea just then occurs to him, “And, hey, you know, if it’ll, uh, help, I could give you my cell phone number. So that if, um, anything happens or even if you just have any questions about- anything- You can text or call me. How’s that sound?”

“That’s- That’s very kind of you, you needn’t do that-”

“I really don’t mind! I wanna know that Tes is fine anyway, ya know?”

Hermann hesitates, and nods slowly. “If- If you really don’t mind.” He pulls out his cellphone. 

“Great!” Newt says happily, and carefully recites his information so that Hermann can tap it into his cellphone. “Just text me real quick so that I have your information and can add you as a contact- If you don’t mind, that is.”

There’s really no reason for Hermann’s face to be going a tiny bit red again. “I don’t mind,” he says, and types a short, simple text to send to Newt. There’s the buzzing of a phone on vibrate a moment later. 

“You can- You can, uh, text me for anything,” Newt says lightly. Slightly too light, like he’s forcing himself to be casual. “You know. Anything.”

Hermann nods several times. Possibly too many times. “I appreciate it, Newton.”

“It’s Newt, seriously, Newt.” 

“But Newton and Tesla fit together so well,” Hermann says without thinking. No way he would have made such a foolish joke if he was thinking.

But Newt laughs. “Fuck, I didn’t even think of that. Both men of science. Or- A cat of science.” 

Hermann hides a smile. Or maybe not, Newt seems to see it. 

“So-” Newt starts a second later. “I guess that’s...all your questions for now? Since you’ve got my number?”

“Ah, yes, that’s all,” Hermann agrees.

“Probably best to send you and Tes off to his new home then,” Newt says. He sighs, a little wistfully. “Gonna miss you, little guy,” he says, bending over to put his face next to the cat carrier, which is sitting on the chair next to him. “Be nice to your new owner, okay, buddy? I’m sure he’ll take real good care of you.” 

“I’ll do my best,” Hermann assures him seriously. “And if- Even if nothing goes wrong and I, ah, don’t have to ask any questions for you, I’ll...text you an update in a bit, to let you know he’s fine, if, um, if you want, that is…”

“Yeah!” Newt says enthusiastically, sitting up straight again. “I’d really appreciate that.” 

The moments where he ventures outside of his comfort zone and is positively responded to are always a vast relief, a feeling like his entire body sighing. In fact, this whole situation has been a bit like that, all of it going better than he expected. 

“I’ll do that then,” Hermann says firmly. 

Newt nods and stands up. Hermann does too. “It was great meeting you, Hermann,” Newt says, offering a hand. 

“You as well, Newton,” Hermann says, shaking his hand briskly. He turns to the cat carrier, and- Oh. He can carry it one handed, he’s sure, he can carry it and have his cane in the other hand and that is all entirely fine, he’d considered that and is not especially worried about his ability to do that for a short distance, but what he had not considered is...how to get into his car. How to open the car door while carrying the cat carrier and his cane and oh then there’s his keys- Perhaps he had better go unlock his car now, maybe even open the door, then carry the cat carrier out-

“Hey, uh- N-not to be rude, but, um, d’you want me to help out? Just to carry Tes to your car?”

Hermann glances out the window - his car is halfway across the parking lot - and back at Newt and at the cat carrier. “That would be helpful, actually. Thank you.”

“No problem,” Newt says, and accompanies Hermann out to his car. As he gently sets Tesla’s cat carrier down on the front seat next to Hermann he says one last time, “So, yeah, definitely call me...if you need anything.”

“I will,” Hermann promises.

“Bye, uh, again. Bye, Tesla.”

“Goodbye.”

 

A week later, Tesla coughs up a rather terrifying looking hairball. Hermann sends Newton a text about it. He replies assuring Hermann that it’s perfectly ordinary and fine and that there are types of cat food designed to help with that so maybe he should check that out, and how is Tesla doing other than that? Hermann sends a text telling Newt that he’s doing very well, seems to very much like the small mouse shaped toys Hermann bought him, and Newt demands a picture, and then somehow they end up texting back and forth for two hours, about Tesla at first but wandering off into other topics. Newt relays a story of an interaction he had at the shelter with a confused customer that has Hermann breaking into surprised laughter. 

The next day at the grocery store, Hermann texts Newt a picture of a bag of cat food, asking if this was what he was referring to, and Newt advises him to go for a different brand, and then they text for an hour. 

At work a few days later, Tendo makes fun of Hermann for talking about Tesla too much - he hadn’t realized he was - and then with a sly smirk asks who it is he’s been texting so much while smiling like a dork. Hermann does not deign to answer. 

Two weeks after Hermann adopted Tesla, the two of them are sitting on his coach, Hermann contemplating what to eat for dinner as he absentmindedly strokes Tes’s back, when he gets a call from Newton, “just to check up and make sure Tes is doing okay still.” 

And Hermann has been texting him somewhat regularly and updating him on Tesla, so obviously Newton knows he is doing okay. Right? He must. So- So Hermann takes a deep breath and says, trying to sound casual but instead sounding horribly stern, “He’s fine- Would you like to, ah, come over to check for yourself? I’m not busy right now.” 

There’s a long pause, and then Newt says, “Can I? Now?”

“Of course, that’s why I said you could,” Hermann retorts, sounding sarcastic even as relief floods his veins, giving him courage enough to say, “Oh, and I was just about to order Chinese take-out, I could get you something if you haven’t eaten yet.”

Newt’s response is extremely enthusiastic. Hermann smiles brilliantly and flatly takes his order. 

Newt shows up right around the same time the take out is delivered. He spends several minutes happily reuniting with Tesla, checking out Hermann’s set up of food and water dishes and litter box and cat perch and approving them, and smiling fit to split his face. Then they eat Chinese take out on Hermann’s couch and watch Star Trek reruns on TV - “Oh, man, I love this show!” Newt says, and Hermann coolly agrees as if it wasn’t his absolute favorite show since childhood - and take turns petting Tesla, who sits between them. 

As Captain Kirk smiles with a twinkle in his eye at Mr. Spock, Hermann reaches out to pat Tesla again, but instead of hitting fur, he encounters a soft hand. He starts and looks over at Newt with surprise, who is also turning to stare at him- and Newt smiles shyly, and instead of moving his hand away, flips it over and entwines his fingers with Hermann’s. 

Hermann does not pull away. 

When the episode has ended, they look at each other again. “So,” Newt starts, “This, uh, this has been pretty fun, you know...M-maybe I could, um, take you out to dinner or coffee sometime?”

Hermann manages to say, “I’d like that,” without stammering or sounding as if he’s extremely disapproving of the concept. It’s certainly an improvement for him. 

And then they are looking at each other and holding hands and Hermann thinks he is acting like hormonal high schooler instead of an adult with a doctorate, but he also can’t look away from Newt or stop smiling or feeling this warm, bubbling happiness that only grows and grows when Newt leans over and gently presses his lips up against Hermann’s.

Tesla is still between them and indicates his disapproval of this sudden moving around by making an indignant noise and jumping down off the couch, but they are a little too busy kissing to notice that.


End file.
